Alone
by random-antics-echelon
Summary: Corporal Peter Newkirk feels so alone. Can he find it in himself to tell Colonel Hogan how he feels about him? SLASH fic. Hogan/Newkirk.


**Hi, everyone! random-antics-echelon here (formerly known as csiwolfe08 if any of you happen to have me on your author alert list). This is my first Hogan's Heroes fic, I'm in love with the show and thought I might like to write some of my own. This is a SLASH fic, just a forewarning so you're not unpleasantly surprised. This is a oneshot, but I do have a multichapter story planned for a later date. Hope you enjoy, and reviews are very much appreciated!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Hogan's Heroes or it's characters…I do however own seasons 1 through 3 on dvd…**

**ALONE**

Corporal Peter Newkirk sat on the barrel outside his barracks and sighed. He stared off in front of him and quietly watched the other men from his barracks play a rather poorly coordinated game of volleyball. He peered around amongst the members, looking for his friends. He spotted Carter and Kinch on one side of the net, their eyes in the air watching for the ball. He saw Louis on the other side of the net, smirking at the fact that his French friend was significantly smaller than all the other men, and he wondered how he even managed to get included in the game. He looked behind Louis and his gaze fell on _him._ The main guy, the commanding officer…the man he was in love with but didn't have the nerve to tell…Colonel Robert Hogan.

Newkirk shifted on the barrel and looked away from Hogan, staring into the distance at nothing in particular. _Blimey, Peter, why do you 'ave to think of 'im like that? You know he don't bend that way. _He nibbled on his lip and dared to look back at the Colonel for a moment. He noticed the smile on his face as he watched his men run around, chasing the volleyball…the laughter when the ball bounced off Louis's head and went sailing back over the net. Newkirk raised his eyebrow in mild amusement when he heard Louis fire off something, most likely vile, in French. He suddenly felt the Colonel's eyes on him, and he made the mistake of looking in his direction. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Hogan smiling warmly at him, a playful but curious glow in his brown eyes. He shyly smiled back, but looked away quickly.

Newkirk settled back down a moment later when he felt the Colonel look away. He thought back to all those "almost" times, when they accidentally touched and he got such a rush that he nearly spilled the beans about how he felt… like one of the times when they nearly got caught by the Gestapo after a mission.

_"Bloody hell, that was a bit close," Newkirk stated as he watched Hogan pull the tree stump shut and drop to the floor below in the tunnel. "You all right, Guv?"_

_ "I'm okay, Newkirk, what about you?" Hogan asked, looking at his friend in mild concern. They had barely escaped being caught by several Gestapo agents, and had to run the entire way back to the camp._

_ "Right as rain, sir," Newkirk answered, still breathing heavily from running. "You think we 'ave enough information to send to London?"_

_ "Yeah, they should be able to figure out what it means," Hogan said, squinting down at the coded paper in his hands. "Let's go give this to Kinch and get him on the radio." He walked up to Newkirk and put his arm around his shoulder. "You're sure you're okay? I've never seen you run so fast."_

_ "I 'ad to keep up with you, sir," Newkirk replied with a smirk. He was trying very hard not to notice the warmth Hogan's arm was sending through him, and resisting the urge to wrap him in a hug and kiss him senseless._

_ Hogan smiled back at Newkirk's statement and led the two of them down the tunnel to the barracks._

Newkirk sighed out loud as he came back to reality. He looked over to his left to see their favorite guard walking towards him, Sergeant Schultz, and he smiled a little. "Afternoon, Schultzie," he said as the large man came closer.

"Newkirk, you are not participating in the game?" Schultz asked, looking over at the other men playing volleyball and then back at Newkirk.

"Not really feelin' it today," Newkirk said, looking over at the Colonel again.

"You are feeling sick?" Schultz asked, settling on the barrel next to the corporal's. "Ohhhh boy, I do not like sick!"

"Not sick…really," Newkirk replied, smiling a little at the sergeant's reaction.

"But what other kind of sick is there?" Schultz asked, looking at Newkirk in mild confusion. Before the corporal could answer, Schultz sat upright and a big grin spread across his face. "Ohhhh…you are lovesick!" he concluded, quite proud of himself. "Ohh, what is her name? Do you have a picture?"

Newkirk laughed a little and shook his head. "No, Schultzie, it's not a girl."

"Oh," Schultz replied flatly, disappointed. "Well then…who is it?"

Newkirk frowned slightly and looked out at Hogan again. "I can't tell you, mate," he said quietly. There was more than one reason he couldn't tell Schultz about his lusting after the Colonel. For one, it wasn't acceptable for him to feel that way towards another man, let alone his commanding officer. He could only imagine how the other prisoners would react. Plus, if the truth did come out and someone higher up found out, there would be no doubt that he would be transferred out…or shot…or both. He cringed at the thought, and then looked over at Schultz. "Sorry."

"Hmm, well, I guess it's alright," the sergeant replied, standing up. "Well, I must be on my way."

Newkirk nodded as he watched the sergeant walk, or rather sort of bounce, away. He sighed and leaned back against the wall, thinking about how much it hurt to keep his love for Hogan a secret. He didn't want to think about the possibility that the Colonel would hate him and never speak to him again if he found out. He frowned and thought back to a time when Hogan was extremely upset with him. It was during a mission when they were outside of the camp, and they were captured by guards and returned to Stalag 13. It was ultimately Newkirk's actions that got them caught and thrown in the cooler.

_"Newkirk, I told you not to go into that bar and you didn't listen to me!" Hogan scolded as he paced back and forth in the cooler. _

_ "I'm sorry, Guv," Newkirk replied, watching Hogan nervously. "I-I wasn't thinkin' and-"_

_ "Obviously," Hogan interjected rather angrily. He looked at Newkirk, a very unhappy expression on his face. "I need my men to follow orders, not go off and do whatever they want when we're on an important mission."_

_ "I'm sorry," Newkirk said again, quietly. He backed towards the wall a little. _

_ "That doesn't get us out of this cooler and help with the mission," Hogan snapped. He walked over and flopped down on the only cot, snatching up the only blanket and covering himself with it. "We'll deal with this in the morning."_

_ Newkirk swallowed and didn't say anything. He was actually trying really hard not to cry. He had never seen Hogan this angry before, and it had never been directed at him. He backed against the wall and slid down into a sitting position. He pulled his uniform jacket a little tighter around himself; it seemed especially cold in the cooler that night. He bit his lip as a single tear slid down his cheek, followed by another, and another. He silently cried until he finally fell asleep._

Newkirk's frown deepened at the though. He had lucked out that time, and Hogan had woken up the next morning feeling rather forgiving.

_Newkirk shifted when he felt something warm around his shoulders, and then something else warm cover his front side. He opened his eyes to find himself still in the bleak cooler, but there was a blanket covering him. He also noticed what seemed to be the colonel's jacket covering his shoulders. He looked up to see Hogan kneeling next to him, looking at him with a rather guilty expression. "Colonel?"_

_ "Sorry I woke you," Hogan said calmly, not sounding angry at all. "I woke up and saw you shivering in your sleep. I didn't want you to get sick."_

_ Newkirk looked at him for a moment. "Thanks," he said quietly._

_ "I'm sorry about last night," Hogan said, just as quietly as Newkirk had been. "I shouldn't have treated you like that."_

_ "I deserved it," Newkirk said, frowning as he recalled the previous night's events._

_ "No," Hogan replied, putting his hand on Newkirk's shoulder. "I overreacted, and I was wrong. What you did in town was an accident, and I shouldn't have acted that way." He looked at Newkirk's eyes and frowned, noticing that they looked red. "Are you ok? Your eyes are red."_

_ Newkirk suddenly remembered he had been crying the night before, and only hoped that there were not tear streaks on his cheeks. "Probably just the cold," he lied, rubbing at his eyes. He tried to ignore the look Hogan gave him, as if he was trying to say sorry without actually talking._

"Pierre!" a voice suddenly startled Newkirk so bad that he almost fell off the barrel.

"Bloody hell, Louis!" Newkirk exclaimed, looking at the Frenchman. "You about gave me a heart attack!"

"Not my fault you weren't paying attention," Lebeau replied with a laugh. "What were you thinking about anyway?"

"Nothin'," Newkirk lied, looking around to see the volleyball game had ended. "Where'd everybody go?"

"Lining up for roll call," Lebeau answered. "You weren't following us so le colonel made me come get you."

"Oh," Newkirk replied. He started walking with Lebeau, rubbing his eyes as if would clear his head.

"Pierre, are you alright?" Lebeau asked, looking at his friend in concern.

"M'fine, why?"

"Well, you didn't play with us…and you haven't eaten all day. Plus you haven't said a word to Hogan, he thinks you are mad at him."

"What?" Newkirk asked in shock. "No, I…I'm not mad. Just not in much of a talkin' mood today I guess."

"Not in much of an eating mood either," Lebeau added. "You'll get sick again, you know."

Newkirk bit his lip, remembering the last time he had been really sick. It was after the incident with Hogan and himself in the cooler. Hogan apparently hadn't gotten to him in time with the blanket, for he fell ill the very next day. He had tried to conceal it from the others, but within a few days he was unable to eat and barely able to walk from one end of the barracks to the other. He remembered the night in the barracks when he collapsed.

_"Kinch! Carter!" Lebeau yelled while rushing over to Newkirk, who had suddenly collapsed. He fell to the ground next to him and pulled him onto his lap as the other two men came rushing over._

_ "What happened?" Carter asked, shocked to see Newkirk unconscious on the floor. "Did he hit his head or something?"_

_ "No, he just fell over," Lebeau replied, shaking Newkirk lightly. "Pierre? Pierre, mon ami, can you hear me?" He shook Newkirk a little more frantically when he didn't respond. He put his hand on his forehead and gasped. "He is burning up!"_

_ "Oh, well I didn't even know he was sick," Carter said, kneeling down and shaking Newkirk lightly as well. "Newkirk? Hey, Peter, wake up, buddy."_

_ Lebeau nearly came up off the floor when Newkirk moaned weakly in his sleep. "Where is le colonel?"_

_ "In Klink's office," Kinch replied. "I'll go get him."_

_ While Kinch left to get Hogan, Lebeau and Carter carefully lifted Newkirk off the ground and carried him over to the bunk beds, placing him on the lower bunk. Carter pulled the blanket over his friend and looked at Lebeau. "Why wouldn't he tell us if he was sick?"_

_ "I don't know," Lebeau said sadly, sitting on the corner of the bed and looking at the corporal. _

_ Hogan suddenly burst through the door with Kinch close behind him. Spotting the group over by Newkirk's bed, he rushed over. "What happened?" he asked frantically._

_ "He just collapsed," Lebeau answered, moving out of the way so Hogan could get closer to Newkirk. "He is not well, he has a fever."_

_ Hogan frowned, knowing that it was partially his fault that Newkirk was sick. But it bothered him that he hadn't told him. He moved closer when Newkirk shifted on the bed. "Newkirk…hey, can you hear me?" he asked softly._

_ "Mmm'what?" Newkirk asked weakly, slowly opening his eyes. "What 'appened?"_

_ "You passed out," Hogan said. "You're not well, you need to get some rest."_

_ Newkirk realized that he was on a bed, and he tried to sit up. He was surprised slightly when Hogan gently put his hand on his chest and pushed him back down. "Colonel, I-"_

_ "No, you need to rest," Hogan interrupted. He looked back at the other men behind him. "Lebeau, can you make some soup or something for him?"_

_ "Oui, Colonel," Lebeau replied, turning to head towards his stove._

_ "Carter, get some more blankets. Kinch, can you go find Wilson?"_

_ "Will do Colonel," Kinch said, walking towards the door._

_ Hogan looked back down at Newkirk and frowned. "Why didn't you say something sooner, Newkirk?"_

_ Newkirk swallowed and looked at Hogan, trying not to focus on the fact that his hand was still resting on his chest. "Didn't…want you to get angry again."_

_ Hogan's frown deepened. "I wouldn't have," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, it's my fault you got sick. I should have shared that blanket with you in the cooler, I feel like a real idiot."_

_ Newkirk shook his head. "Not your-" He suddenly began to cough violently, so bad in fact that he had to sit up in order to get air. His whole body shook and he squeezed his eyes shut as he choked._

_ Hogan put his arm around him and pulled him a little closer. "Hey, breath. Come on." He waited until the choking fit was over to turn Newkirk towards him. He gasped a little, noticing how pale he was. "Newkirk…"_

_ "It's not your fault, Guv," Newkirk said weakly before Hogan could continue. He shivered violently and pulled the blanket tighter around him._

_ Carter returned with several more blankets, all of which he wrapped around Newkirk snugly. "There you go, Peter. I hope you feel better."_

_ Newkirk smiled weakly at him. "Thanks, mate."_

_ Hogan pulled Newkirk tightly up against himself and wrapped his arms around him, hoping to transfer some body heat and warm up the corporal. He still felt incredibly guilty, all the more so when Newkirk leaned into him and rested his head against his shoulder._

_ Newkirk hardly knew what he was doing because he was so dizzy. All he knew was that Hogan had never been this close to him before, and he didn't want him to let go. He leaned closer into his commanding officer and rested his head on his shoulder, mostly because his head was throbbing. His heart beat a little faster when Hogan tightened his hold on him, no doubt to keep him warm until Wilson got there._

"Pierre, mon ami, you're doing it again," Lebeau complained to the Englishman as they approached the other men already lined up. "Are you even listening to me?"

"What? Of course, Louis," Newkirk lied, following Lebeau to the front of the barracks. He stood in line next to the Frenchman and waited for Klink to come out and do his nightly "babble." He peered over to Hogan…and was completely caught off guard to notice the colonel staring back at him. "Um…evening, Guv," he stammered.

"Hey, you finally said something to me today," Hogan responded in a chipper voice. He grinned at the corporal and turned to face him. "I thought you were ignoring me."

"Oh, um…sorry," Newkirk said, slightly embarrassed. He turned away and looked down at the ground, trying very hard not to blush.

"Oh, no, I'm not mad," Hogan added quickly, seeing Newkirk turn away as if he was hurt by what he said. "I was only kidding. How are you feeling?"

Newkirk looked back up at him in confusion. "Okay…why?"

Hogan shrugged one shoulder and looked off at something else for a minute. "Just checking. Lebeau told me you didn't eat anything today."

Newkirk shot a small glare over at Lebeau, who shrugged and gave him the "sorry" look. He sighed and turned back to Hogan. "Just wasn't hungry today, I suppose."

"That's not good," Hogan stated matter-of-factly. "Are you feeling sick again?"

"No," Newkirk said flatly. "Just…it's nothin' really, sir."

"Gotta be something," Hogan probed. He was about to continue when he saw Klink and Schultz emerge from the Kommandant's building, and he turned to face front again. "I want to talk to you in my office after this."

Newkirk swallowed nervously and nodded. "Okay." He stared at the ground in front of him, contemplating what Hogan wanted to talk to him about that needed to be in the privacy of his office. _He's probably going to rail on me 'bout not eating, not exercising or something. But why does he need to do that in private? _

Once roll call was over, the men filed back into the barracks. Newkirk went and stood over by his bed, trying to think of what to say to Hogan. He looked back to see the colonel looking at him, and he cringed inwardly when he motioned for him to go into his office. He walked slowly towards the door as if he was expecting impending doom when he entered. He finally found himself in the smaller room. "You wanted to see me, Colonel?"

Hogan nodded. "Shut the door please."

Newkirk swallowed nervously once again and closed the door. He finally turned around to face Hogan. "What's this about, sir?"

"You tell me, Newkirk," Hogan said, leaning back of his desk and looking at the Englishman. "You haven't been yourself lately, especially today. Did something happen, are you feeling okay?"

Newkirk bit his lip. Should he tell him how he really feels? Should he lie? "I just…" he stammered, not knowing how to start. "I feel…"

"Feel what?" Hogan asked quietly, approaching him slowly. "Sick, scared, depressed?"

"Alone." The word just slipped out unexpectedly, and Newkirk's eyebrows shot up in surprise at his own statement.

"But we're all here, Peter," Hogan said quietly, looking at him in concern.

"Not…not that kind of alone," Newkirk added, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "I just…I don't…_have_ something that I want…_someone_ that I want." His muscles tightened up in panic; he had no idea where this was coming from.

"Who?" Hogan asked.

This was it, all or nothing. Newkirk stood up a little straighter and looked Hogan in the eyes. "You," he replied.

"Me?" Hogan asked in confusion.

"It's you that I want," Newkirk continued, figuring there was no turning back now. "I'm in love with you…and I didn't know 'ow to tell you…but I just did?" He looked around the room frantically and backed towards the door. "I don't…I can't explain myself, sir! I'm sorry, you probably 'ate me now…I'll leave." He turned towards the door and reached to open it, trying to force back tears that were welling in his eyes. He was shocked when he felt Hogan grab his arm and pull him back.

"Wait, we need to talk about this," Hogan stated, turning Newkirk to face him. He looked at his friend intently for a moment before speaking again. "How long?"

Newkirk looked at him seriously. "Since the day I met you."

Hogan looked at him, and then at the floor, and then what seemed like every other surface in the room. He finally sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Well…I'm glad you got that out."

Newkirk looked at the ground in shame, not caring that his tears were starting to fall. He had already humiliated himself in front of the man he loved, what did it matter now if he cried? "Colonel, I'm sorry-"

"I've been meaning to tell you the same thing," Hogan suddenly interrupted.

Newkirk just stared at him, not really comprehending what he said. "What?"

"Peter…I'm in love with you too," Hogan said quietly. "I wanted to tell you sooner, but I didn't know how you would react. I didn't want things to be awkward between us. None of the others know because I wanted to tell you first."

Newkirk looked at him in absolute shock, his tears still falling. "But…but all those women…"

"It was just an act with them," Hogan replied, starting to pace around the room. "It was always you that I was thinking about. That night when we were in the cooler, when you got sick…I woke up and I just _hated_ myself for what I did." He stopped pacing and looked right at Newkirk. "I couldn't live with myself knowing that I hurt the one I was in love with. I'm _so_ sorry, you have no idea."

Newkirk started to shake a little, partly because of his nerves and partly because of the news he was hearing. "I…I…" He put his face in his hands and burst into tears, unable to speak.

Hogan quickly crossed the room and pulled him into a tight embrace. "I love you, Peter. Please forgive me."

The two men stood in the middle of the room, hugging each other tightly while Newkirk cried. Hogan did everything he could to try and calm him down, and eventually he was able to stop crying and just make small sniffling noises.

Newkirk eventually pulled back a little and wiped his eyes. "M'sorry, Colonel," he whimpered. "That was uncalled for."

Hogan shook his head and cupped Newkirk's cheek in his hand. "Don't apologize. You had every right to be upset. I should have told you sooner." He pulled Newkirk into a hug once more. "All those times, I was _so_ close…I just wanted to tell you but I couldn't."

"Me too," Newkirk said quietly. "I guess…we're both clueless."

Hogan laughed a little and nodded, taking a step back to look at Newkirk. "Well, now that I have you, I don't want to let you go."

Newkirk smiled a little and wiped the last of the tears from his face. He inched closer to Hogan and looked him in the eyes. "Will you kiss me?" he asked, extremely quiet.

Hogan didn't need to be asked twice. He closed what was left of the distance between them and crushed his lips against Newkirk's, kissing him fiercely. He wrapped his arms around him and pulled him tightly up against himself, deepening the kiss. He threw every drop of emotion and passion that he could into it, and before he knew it he had backed Newkirk against the wall. He broke the kiss and pulled back. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"What? No, don't stop," Newkirk pleaded, grabbing Hogan's jacket and pulling him closer.

Hogan nodded and kissed him again, this time pulling him away from the wall and backing towards the bed. When he reached his destination, he turned Newkirk and pushed him down on the bed. He beamed when Newkirk smiled up at him encouragingly, and he went to pull of his partner's shirt. He was almost about to when a sudden loud knock on the door startled them both.

"Colonel? Is everything alright in there?" Lebeau's voice chimed in through the door.

Hogan sighed in relief that it was only one of his men knocking. "Yes, Lebeau, we'll be out in a minute." He looked down at Newkirk. "Sorry about that."

"It's alright," Newkirk said, sitting up and fixing his shirt. "Nothing we can't continue later."

Hogan smiled and leaned over to kiss him once more. "I love you."

Newkirk smiled back at him. "I'm glad." He sighed a little and looked towards the door. "They're probably waiting on us…reckon we should tell 'em?"

Hogan nodded in agreement. "It would probably be for the best. I wouldn't want them to catch us doing something…inappropriate."

Newkirk blushed a little and stood up. "Well, I'm ready if you are."

Hogan stood and took Newkirk's hand in his own. "I'm ready." The two of them walked towards the door and opened it, stepping out into the main room. The other men were all milling around doing various things. Hogan cleared his throat to get their attention. "Um…well, everyone…Newkirk and I have something to tell you."

Lebeau was the first to notice the two men holding hands, and he jumped up from the table. "I _told_ you that's what they were doing in there!" he exclaimed to the other men. "I knew it!"

"Wait, what?" Newkirk asked, looking at Lebeau in confusion.

"'Bout time," Kinch mumbled from his corner, briefly looking at the two men.

"Yeah, we thought you two were never gonna tell us!" Carter exclaimed happily. "Well we think we already knew, before you two knew actually, but we weren't sure because you weren't doing anything or being sneaky so we were waiting for-"

"Carter," Hogan said, cutting off the talkative sergeant. He looked around at the other men. "You all _knew?_"

"But we never said anything!" Newkirk exclaimed. "'Ow did you lot guess?"

"Oh come on, Pierre, it was obvious," Lebeau said, taking a seat again. "The way you looked at each other when the other wasn't looking? Always trying to be around each other and acting like you had nothing else on your minds."

"I mean, you want to talk about obvious," Kinch added, looking up once more. "I'm shocked that Schultz or Klink didn't figure you two out."

"Neither of them would have known otherwise," Lebeau said, eliciting a laugh from Kinch and Carter.

Hogan and Newkirk looked at each other in shock. They couldn't believe they were the only ones that didn't know about the other's feelings.

Hogan finally smiled at Newkirk. "Well, I guess we don't have to worry." He put his arm around his new boyfriend's shoulders and pulled him a little closer. "Want to go finish what we started?"

Newkirk grinned at him and wrapped his arm around his waist. "Sounds like a plan."

"Finish what?" Carter asked curiously as the two men started to walk back towards Hogan's office. "Are they planning something?"

"Not…exactly, Carter," Kinch said, looking in amusement at the other man.

"Let's not disturb them," Lebeau said, standing to go to his stove. "I think I will make some soup."

"Hmm," Carter mumbled, shrugging his shoulders and sitting at the table.

In the office, Hogan once again had Newkirk backed against the wall. This time he had successfully managed to get most of his clothes off, and he was kissing him like he hadn't seen him in years. "I've been waiting so long for this," he whispered.

"Me too," Newkirk replied. "Take me."

Hogan smiled happily and started to pull Newkirk to the bed. He was finally going to be able to be with the man he loved…and neither of them was going to feel alone ever again.

END

**Like? Dislike? Reviews are welcome, hope you all come back when I put up the chapter story!**


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